The Sleepover
by Hannabel Cogmann
Summary: Frodo is hosting a sleepover party an has invited all of his friends! Will Éowyn and Arwen come to blows over the darkly handsome Aragorn? Will Sam remain hopelessly devoted to Frodo, despite the fact that he is clearly uninterested? Will Legolas and Gimlí be bro-ing it up with matching pyjamas? And last, but not leaset- what will be revealed in the ever-dreaded Truth or Dare?


Chapter 1

The Guests Arrive

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. And in that hole, that hobbit was going to have a totally fabulous sleepover!

"Gandaaaaalf," whined Frodo, "I can't find the movie!"

Gandalf glided into the room, his silvery cloak and beard freshly ironed. "What movie would that be, child?" he intoned, his voice a low mumble.

"Mean Girls," Frodo whimpered. He peered closer at Gandalf. "Are you wearing mascara?"

The beardy wizard blushed to the roots of his moustache. "Urm, maybe, yes. I wish to be 'hip' and 'down with the kids." This was accompanied by a creaky, yet, in Frodo's opinion, strangely arousing pelvic thrust.

"Is this the film you seek?" Gandalf asked, brandishing the pink DVD. Outraged that he, The Ring-bearer, had not found it first, Frodo promptly pretended to faint. Gandalf sighed.

"Stop being such an attention seeking whore," Gandalf muttered as the doorbell rang. Frodo jumped up, suddenly 'better', swished his curly hair and opened it with a flair.

"Hi, Master Frodo!" chirped Sam, "I'm sorry if I'm a bit early, but I thought you might need some help-"

At this point, Frodo had already fetched the broom and placed it wordlessly in Sam's hands. Sam looked at the broom in adoration, for it had touched Master Frodo's perfect hands and quickly set about cleaning the hobbit hole, as Frodo practiced his pout in the mirror.

About half an hour later, a shiny white limo pulled up outside the hobbit hole and the doorbell rang. Out of the limo came Merry and Pippin, cracking jokes as always, Aragorn with Arwen, wearing a revealing top and Éowyn, heavily made up, on either side, alternating fawning over Aragorn and glaring daggers at each other, and finally Legolas and Gimli, speaking in code with each other, in a language the two of them had invented. "Thanks for the lift, Mr Denethor!" Legolas called out, waving.

"No problem, kid," Denethor grinned, "Anytime!" The puffing panting figure of Faramir drew up behind the car, bent over and gasping for breath. "Thanks…for letting me…run behind…the car…Dad!" Faramir wheezed, taking a drag from his inhaler.

Denethor's face clouded over and he snarled. "Unworthy scum! You will never be as good as your brother." And he rolled up the window and sped away. "I love you too, Daddy," Faramir whispered.

Everyone piled into the hobbit hole and Gandalf swooped out with a tray full of drinks. "Hi guys," he trilled, "oh hi, hi!" His lips had now been smeared with a startling fuchsia lipstick. He whisked around the room handing out glasses.

"Hey girls, how's it hangin'?" he said, passing a glass to Arwen and Éowyn. "What's the goss? What's the T?"

Arwen smiled sweetly up at Gandalf. "Nothing much," she simpered, "just listening to Aragorn's amaaaazing stories, he's so funny!" She fluttered her eyelashes up at him, the compliment returned with a heart-melting smile. Éowyn didn't miss a beat, and didn't hesitate in retaliating. "Have you seen his muscles?" she squealed, giving his arm a squeeze.

"Skank," Arwen coughed.

Leaving the two girls at each other's throats, Gandalf sashayed along to Legolas and Gimli, who had changed clothes already and were bro-ing it up in matching pyjamas. "Here's a cocktail each for you," Gandalf said, "Virgin, of course!" He looked around carefully, his neck moving like a periscope and ducked back down. "Or maybe not!" he squeaked, his grin revealing the lipstick on his teeth. "I'm just that cool!"

Frodo was busily fainting again, as the spotlight was no longer on him. The doorbell rang and Frodo rushed to get it, whooshing past Sam to answer it.

"Hello, massster," croaked Gollum excitedly, "I heard you was having a partiessssss, so I broughtsss Doritosss!"

Frodo's face resumed its habitual bored and sulky look before narrowing his eyes. "What kind of Doritos?"

"Chilli heats wavessss, just like master likesss," Gollum beamed, offering them up. The hobbit snatched them out of his hands and slammed the door in his face yelling, "Thanks, Graham!"

Gollum stood there for a second, alone and Dorito-less. "Massster…" he said to himself, slowly "…accepted my Doritosss!" And he hopped and skipped down the path, as the party he had obliviously been excluded from began.


End file.
